I’ve lost this place I’m suppose to have
my place in this thunder, ringing, ringing clear
what I have, and trust in what I haven’t gained
with this losing war, I’ve won something?
I’ve lost my place in this thundering mess
that lightening tragically strikes on paper
clipping my worth together.
I need a bow and my own arrow to make this right
I need an exorcism done to baptize
my worried hands together
and into a pit of strangers I’d dive
un-bruised by bravado’s curses
I’d dive into this tidal wave of circumstance
I the interpellator, lose myself
I hail
i lose
this champion.
COCOYEA 
That is one of those poems that begins by denying itself but ends whoosh. It’s beautifully balanced round the idea.
Thanks Paul.
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amazing how in the last stanza you can break out a subtle feeling in the change between the capital “I” and the lower-case case. baptize my worried hands together – “together” is the key.
Yes it is :-).Thanks.
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This is a fascinating sociological reflection. I’ve just had an aha moment with your writing, seeing it now in the context of “Cancelled Without Prejudice”. Brilliant! Thanks.
Thanks Brad.
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Just passing by.Btw, you website have great content!
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I need an exorcism done to baptize
my worried hands together
Love these lines, a strong, strong image. You’re writing so beautifully, Cocoyea.
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